


gold

by orphan_account



Category: Battle Royale (2000)
Genre: F/F, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 19:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mitsuko’s body moves of its own accord.Or: Noriko is the only one she'll save.





	gold

**Author's Note:**

> [insp.](https://mariasflores.tumblr.com/post/169119487687/it-takes-just-one-look-at-my-hands-says-kid-your) [title src.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d9EO6CPIm9g)

 

 

 

 

 

Mitsuko’s body moves of its own accord. The rest of her catches up a moment later, which is one moment too late. There is no stopping this. She is already in motion.

 _Noriko_.

Her mouth cuts into a smile as she closes the distance between them. She quickly assesses the other girl’s condition: injured and unarmed. Coming to stand directly in front of her, Mitsuko exhales; it feels like she hasn’t been allowed to breathe until now.

“You’re alone,” Mitsuko observes.

Noriko’s eyes widen, but she’s given no time to react. Mitsuko flings an arm around the other girl’s neck and yanks her closer. Noriko tries to shift away, but Mitsuko has already started back in the direction she came from, and determinedly begins pulling Noriko with her. This is awkward and tense, but Mitsuko considers it an embrace all the same. “Come on,” Mitsuko tells her, “you’ll be safe with me.” There will never be another opportunity like this again; that is something she knows for certain.

“I’m not alone,” Noriko says, “Shuya—”

“—is dead,” Mitsuko interrupts as they continue stumbling through the foliage. She feels, rather than hears, Noriko’s sharp intake of breath at the same time she hears someone calling Noriko’s name. A _boy_. Someone who is not Nanahara. Her heartrate increases and her grip on Noriko tightens in response.

“Are you sure?” Noriko whispers, and then suddenly Mitsuko is supporting most of her weight. The girl is in shock. _Weak_. It’s surprising that she’s lasted this long, especially without killing anyone, but Mitsuko won’t discard her. Not now. Not ever.

And Mitsuko _knows_ Noriko hasn’t killed yet. It’s pathetic, especially since this game depends on the students taking each other out, but she finds she doesn’t mind so much.

“Yes,” Mitsuko lies easily. At least, she hopes he is. If he isn’t, then he soon will be. With any luck, he’ll get himself killed before she has to do anything about it.

“Did you see?”

“Yes,” Mitsuko grunts impatiently, hoping she hasn’t left a trail for whoever’s following them. “But you don’t have to worry now.”

“Mitsuko,” Noriko breathes, sounding just as surprised as a small part of Mitsuko feels at her sudden show of mercy, of heart. “Kawada—”

“Who?”

“One of the transfer students,” Noriko tries, “he—”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Mitsuko says as they exit the last thicket of trees and start heading back towards the abandoned building she’d spent the night in. “You don’t have to worry. You’re safe with me now.” When they reach the door, Mitsuko shoulders it open and then helps Noriko inside. “Everyone’s looking out for themselves, you know,” she says as she shuts the door behind her and peers out the window, checking for any signs of them being followed.

“But not you?”

Mitsuko turns around to look at Noriko, who is leaning against the wall between the doorframe and a cracked, dusty window. “I will protect you,” she says, giving Noriko her best smile. She takes Noriko’s hand and leads her through a maze of broken furniture and heaps of water-stained wartime propaganda, towards the backroom where a ladder leads up to the loft.

“I didn’t think you liked me,” Noriko murmurs as she places her foot on the first rung. The silence around them is deafening, but it’s the best thing Mitsuko’s had since waking up and realizing the rest of her life would be determined by a game.

“I didn’t.” Mitsuko admits, and Noriko turns her head sharply to look at her over her shoulder, her expression confused. “ _Didn’t_ ,” Mitsuko clarifies, briefly touching Noriko’s shoulder to remind her to climb the ladder. “Things are different now.”

“Really?”

Noriko doesn’t believe her. The others were fools to believe her, but Mitsuko isn’t lying. Not this time. “Come on,” she urges, touching Noriko’s shoulder again, and this time the other girl starts to climb. Mitsuko follows her up closely; when they reach the loft, a small space which is crowded full of rickety shelves and empty ammunition belts. She herds Noriko back into a sea of scrap metal until they find the back wall. Falling against it to slide down to the floor, Mitsuko pulls Noriko down with her.

Everything up until now has been automatic. _Autopilot_ is not the word she would use to describe it: that’s different, more mechanical, based on survival. _This_ —she’s not sure what it is—is rooted in something else entirely. Now she feels like she’s fully present, totally in control of herself. Now, with her side pressed against Noriko’s, she’s unsure of what to do.

“How come you didn’t say anything before?” Noriko asks after a moment. Mitsuko studies her; she looks uncomfortable, but that’s it. She isn’t running away, and that’s enough.

“There was never a right time,” Mitsuko answers, which is a half-truth at best.

“So you wanted to tell me before we die?”

Mitsuko’s smile is sickle-sharp in the shadows. “I’m not going to die here, Nakagawa. Not with these losers.” She takes a breath— “and neither are you.” A small part of her—reserved for her past-self, her child-self, wants to say, _I promise_ , but no one ever kept a promise they made her, so she doesn’t say it out loud. Instead, she nods once, confidently, and slips an arm around Noriko’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

The girls fall silent. After a while, Noriko’s head comes to rest on Mitsuko’s shoulder; her breathing deepens, and her weight rests against her more heavily. It is slightly awkward and uncomfortable, but Mitsuko doesn’t want to wake her, so she endures as the hours pass them by. In the distance, there are screams and gunshots. Mitsuko tenses up when she hears something that’s just a little too close to their hideout for her liking, but no one breaks a window or forces the door open.

When evening comes, and the warmth of the day takes its leave, Noriko, half-asleep, nestles closer still.

By the time the sun is down, Mitsuko is holding Noriko in her arms.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
